The Sound of Pulling Heaven Down

He's in church right now- a Catholic church, which is funny
considering he's not even Catholic. But he is there and he is
praying (most likely for us) and he is singing and loving God in
a way I never thought was possible in a man. He is there for God,
for him, and for me. He is standing, kneeling, sitting,
responding without my help this time. I know he is leaving an
empty seat next to him, to imagine I am there. I told him that is
what I do and he liked the idea. I told him that Mass would be a
sort of connection for us. We would read the same readings, hear
the same Gospel, and witness the same miracle. He liked the idea,
because it would be another much-needed connection, but then I
think he saw it. He understood. I know this because he called me
and asked me to tell him everything about Catholicism.
Everything. He asked me to peer into the nine years of Catholic
schooling, six months of Confirmation classes, four years of
Lifeteen, and a lifetime with God and tell him exactly what I
believed. He wanted to know what was so special. So, I told him.
I told him everything and he understood.

He holds up the mirror sometimes and sometimes I
don't like what I see.

He'll tell me that I shouldn't go to parties where I will be
tempted and he tells me it out of love. I ignore my voicemails.

He prays with me nights when I fall asleep. We read the Bible
together and the book of Job has taught me so much. When I want
to whine and vent and rant about how awful my week is, he tells
me to give it up to God, to pray about it and I hate that
he is the one giving me advice. He wants to
take care of me and see me in Heaven and I illogically fight.
He's good about not letting me win. He is stronger than
he knows.

He went to a club and told me that he didn't like it because it
felt so unholy. He heard the lyrics in the music and couldn't
recognize God, so he left. He says the music isn't right and I
ignore my voicemails. I tell him about people here and he says I
shouldn't judge. I complain about my classes and he reminds me of
the blessings of an education. I don't want to pray but he tells
me not to neglect God when I need Him most. I feel empty and
alone and he says that God is everywhere. I become angry and he
gives me a peace he's got from God. I criticize and he makes me
love.

All this time I thought I was bringing him to God, but in
reality, it has been him who has been bringing God to me and us
to God. I can't wait to be with him in Heaven.

* * *

Astronomy was really good today and
made me think about us. My professor was talking about forces
we can observe (to explain the sun's force on the planets). He
asked for an example of an observable force, and someone said
"gravity." So he said he would demonstrate gravity by dropping
an eraser to the ground and we could all see it. So he dropped
it and asked if we had just witnessed gravity- a force. We told
him we had and he disagreed, explaining that we had only seen
an object fall, not gravity.

He explained that early experts
believed in "gravitus" which meant all objects of the earth had
an appetite to be there. He told us the want of the object to
be close to the ground could explain the fall and that there
was no way of observing (and therefore knowing) where "gravity"
resided. Gravity could belong to the earth, the object, or,
conceivably, both. We later discovered there was an
unobservable force (gravity) pulling these two things together
and it was because of weight that the object went down to the
earth and not the other way around. All this talk of forces and
gravity and pulling got me thinking of us.

We are like two objects that want to be
close, that have an appetite to be together by some
unobservable force. It's something you can't see; you can only
feel it. Like my professor demonstrated, you can't watch
gravity, you can only see its effect on things.
Love is like that, you can see how it affects people, not what
it is.You can't spot it in a movie, read it in a book, or hear
it in a song (it's bigger than that; those things are too
confining). We catch glimpses of it in each other- the way our
faces light up around each other, the purity and truth in our
declarations, the privacy in our late-night whispers, the
laughter in our footsteps, and the sunshine pouring from our
interlaced fingertips.

I wanted to say that
our love and relationship are just like gravity, but the more I
thought about it, the more I realized there were differences.
Unlike our love, gravity is all about weight. When we come
together we defy the laws of gravity. Our love doesn't keep us
grounded.